Day I Xenia's Training
The first day of McGregor and Xenia's training together. Previous Dragon's Den Next Day Two Story The shuffle of boots against dry sand resonates through the pathways. A heavy footed dwarf , and a stout halfling amble through the side alleys of the outer city. Startling small children out of their way, with the determination that spreads across their faces. The dwarf, known as McGregor across the land, for his temper and many abilities gained from the war, grumbles about the task ahead. “You need to get better, yes. But I still wish I wasn’t the one doing it, how can you be so terrible anyhow?” His brows furrow in distaste at his companion. “Well, you know, being hundreds of years older does help in your case.” A smirk lands upon the halfling’s, Xenia’s , face. Wisps of hair hide her knowing smile away from McGregor. For the best, after all, if he realized that she knew he wasn’t as rude a nd mean as he put off, then he might try to get worse. And why let that happen? They make it to an apple orchard, where they have practiced before. The soft grass takes away the scratching sound the dirt produced, and fills both their ears with silence. Fog mists over them, and steals away some of the sound as they speak to one another. “You have gotten okay with arrows, but how can you live if you don’t know anything about close combat?” McGregor states with the amount of simplicity he takes to think. Xenia’s stance changes from playful to sassy, a hand on hip, with eyebrows arched. Taking a dagger from her boot, she goes towards him with a high speed. McGregor’s knees brace for impact, but instead of a stab of which he anticipated to hit his chain mail, he feels nothing. Smirking, he stands taller, and turns around to her. Her large smiles steals away his own, and a question takes it’s place. “Wh- why-” His face turns to appallment as he notices what is in her hand. The long gray whiskers of which once hung low to his belt, now reach only his chest. His hands touch the brittle strands, wondering how he could not have felt it. How Xenia could have done it, is a better question. Wiping the appallment off of his face, he nods once gruffly. Stepping forward, unsheathing his own battle axe, he winks right before stampeding towards the halfling. Xenia’s face stays smirking, as she sidesteps, and McGregor steps once past her before turning her way. Dagger in hand, she runs behind him, cutting another chunk of hair from the cape of which he had grown out. Tossing it in the air, she runs around again, laughing at his inability to notice. Huffing, he snarls at her. “I’ve been going easy on you, and you know it, novice.” He spats the word towards her, anger riling in his stomach, forcing him to be uncharacteristically mean. Throwing the axe momentarily aside, he calls to his deity, “Oh holy one, please bear me the strength to slew this common whore. Send me down rain of which I can draw lightening.” Picking up his battle axe once again, he raises it to the heavens. Arrogance leaves his stature as the rain drips down, sliding down both their faces along with sweat. Lightening slithers into his axe, as he points it towards Xenia, it doesn’t shoot out, but slide down the handle. Singing his hand, and allowing the smell of burning flesh to grace the air, he lets out a howl of discontent. “Whore, this is all your fault. Obviously my deity feels sorry for your lack of abilities.” Scratching his stomach, the dwarf thinks of the best way to attack Xenia without knocking her out, as he has so many times. Taking in a deep breath, his feet start to move towards her, his arms move, seemingly, without him knowing. Appallment strikes his face once again, as the dwarf hits Xenia with the butt of his axe. With an oomf of which Xenia specializes in gasping, she is allowed to get back up from her own will and strength. A bruise already making an appearance on her side is ignored by it’s owner. McGregor whistles for a short moment, impressed with himself for hitting her, and not being to hard. Control is not something he is good with. Xenia scrambles towards the dwarf with an arrow in hand, as she dropped her dagger when hit, and picked up the arrow on the whim. As she nears McGregor, her mistake is realized. The target has changed, in his stance, and his weapon. A longsword is held in his hairy knuckles, quivering with the air. The foggy moisture settles on the blade, allowing a glistening shine that imposes upon the slay-ee. Xenia’s face shows her fear, a twitch in her step causes her to stumble. The arrow slips from her small hands, and stabs into the ground. McGregor’s hand steals the opportunity, taking her own locks, and cutting them free of her head. A jolly laugh escapes from his lips, they haven’t tasted such relish before. His anger evaporates as he recognizes the defeat in the halfling’s slouch. With as much gruffness as he can muster, McGregor pulls Xenia off the wet ground. Wiping her off, he gets the wet grass that had collected to her clothing off. A glare erupts from Xenia’s eyes, she knows her hair is missing, and sees the trophy in the Dwarf’s hands. McGregor shakes it in front of her, with a face full of nothing. His wrinkles glisten, the fog has been thickening as they fight. Sweat also makes the glistening worse on his skin. Xenia is no better off, her chest heaves with the effort of breathing roughly. McGregor notices the halfling’s trouble, and collects up the weapons. Handing Xenia her weapons, he turns on his heal, and walks out of the apple orchard. Xenia follows, attempting to flick her now short hair in a huff. Her feet sluggishly scrape the damp sand, which collects to her boots. Her ears perk, noticing the difference in sound between her footsteps and McGregor’s. At this realization, she speeds up, and lifts her feet higher, so as to not seem tired. Making their way through the alleyways, they eventually get to her Dad’s old pub. They both duck in, contentment spreading throughout their whole bodies. Sitting down on stools together beside the bar, they shed their outer garments. McGregor takes in Xenia for a moment, noticing the way her bodice shapes her torso and breasts. Clearing his throat, he looks away. As Xenia meets his eyes, she winks. Shivering, McGregor hurumphs at her implication, and decides to ignore her foolish behavior. Sherstia comes to serve them drinks. Wiping her hands on her apron, “Any new choices, or are we going to be as unoriginal as usual?” An eye roll is the response she gets. “I am going to take that as unoriginality for the night, and give you a tip; it helps to be creative, makes life more interesting.” The elf-halfling’s heels click as she walks to get the malt liquor for the couple. As she returns Xenia gives her something, sneaking it into Sherstia’s hand as she hands Xenia her drink. McGregor doesn’t notice, and sips his brew with such lack of excitement, one could wonder if he had any emotion ever. At least one who had not put up with his anger before. After the two finish their malts, no words spoken between them, they stand simultaneously. A nod to each other allows for the agreement to go back to their room for a good lie down. McGregor’s limp is back, as much as he tries to hide it, Xenia notices. In an attempt to help, she takes his arm, and supports the weight that his leg is not wanting to take. A twitch in McGregor’s arm shows his want for defiance. He doesn’t pull away, knowing he needs the help or else he could injure himself to the point of not functioning. Again. Fear of this unsettles his stomach, the feeling of nausea is so thick, the color of it spreads into his cheeks. Making it to their inn, they walk down the hall to their room. McGregor throws his clothing off, stripping it all off to allow his nude body to comfortably air out. Xenia, being used to this, allows him to get into the bed, and cleans the room up after him. Taking her jackets off, and her bodice, as well as her boots and skirts, she is left with her pantyhose and underwear. The halfling searches through the decent smelling clothing, and finds a nightgown to put on. Turning around, she notices the hungry eyes of McGregor, and smirks. Settling into bed beside him, he puts more blankets on her, as he feels what is left of her hair still wet from being outdoors. “You have to be better next time, and I swear if you ever try to attack my whiskers again, I will make your boots full of holes. So don’t attempt such vile acts again, woman.” McGregor attempts to calm himself with this insult. Which doesn’t work. Xenia turns over, “I will do what I want and you will have to deal with it.” Her smirk stays on her lips. Even as they reach over to McGregor’s. His hand pulls her closer. As his brain realizes they are kissing, he puckers his lips and pushes her away. “No.” He glares at her with defiance. The dwarf, attempting to deny his wants, turns over in their bed. Xenia accepts it, as she got a bit of what she wanted, and feels satisfied. Soon, McGregor’s snores taint the silence and give Xenia her douse of comforting sound that allows her to sleep. Category:Story